


taunting the Fates

by lufink



Category: Tenet (2020)
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Fix-It of Sorts, Happier Epilogue, M/M, POV Second Person, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:14:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27119395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lufink/pseuds/lufink
Summary: You are no believer; yet you wished with a might akin to despair for your grief to be tamed, with enough time. It wasn’t, and the years only brought more questions andwhat ifand eventually, answers. You’re going to do this, becauseyouare a sacrifice you’re willing to make, and he wasn’t (if only you had realized sooner).
Relationships: Neil & The Protagonist (Tenet), Neil/The Protagonist (Tenet)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 45





	1. crafting a future for us both

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Français available: [Au diable les Moires](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27442537) by [lufink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lufink/pseuds/lufink)



> **disclaimer:** i own nothing.
> 
> hello friends! don't mind me, just passing through and crying about the tenet bfs as one should, i believe. the end can be open to interpretation, see: theories about time continuum. i may now proceed to cry some more, and i hope you enjoy reading this! take care <3

When _he_ sees you in the chopper, you’re way older than what he remembers – one would say wiser, but certainly not you; not with what you have in mind, ready to tear the very fabric of time off – and so-- it clicks.

“Couldn’t let me go, could you?”

(It all but falls into place when he smiles at you, and _jesus how you missed that smile_.)

* * *

You spent years and years in inversion. Not all at once – although your methods are rather unorthodox, you’re no mad man – but a little at a time. You know you have to do this; you can hear his voice still – _what’s happened’s happened_ – and yet, you never expected aging to be this unforgiving.

(Or perhaps was it loneliness. Either way, you were not prepared to deal with the loss, nor the excruciating grief that followed.)

* * *

Honest to God, you believed it would pass, for recklessness is supposed to eventually fade out as you grow older. It didn’t.

(When you meet Ives the next time, his eyes tell you nobody’s surprised but yourself.)

* * *

Thus, you did what you did best: crafting the future – your past – one thread at the time, taunting the Fates at each step. Only difference were the wrinkles around your eyes; there were more, and less and less smiles reaching them.

* * *

Your plan was really simple; you needed a team – Wheeler was ever happy to provide – medics, reinforced gear, and above all, a goddamn hell of a luck to achieve perfect timing.

(Although you never were one to trust luck more than the minimal amount, when they clear him – what your nightmares vividly remember as a dead corpse taking a bullet meant for _you_ – and find a pulse-- you figure you are quite fortunate indeed.)

* * *

You know Neil would – will – scold you for what you did; you, however, do not care in the slightest. He can have all the faith in the mechanics of the world he wants – you don’t, never needed to – if he’s _alive_ to do so.

* * *

The bullet left a scar matching the one in your heart. You convince yourself it serves as a reminder, while telling Neil about the past – your past – he missed. He tends to your wounds as he always did, and will always do: with gentle hands and a smile that knows too much.

(He _always_ knew too much, despite your best efforts, and now guessed your intentions as easily as if they were his.)

* * *

There’s a future you crafted for you and he both, one you two have yet to live.

* * *

This place and time are familiar; there’s a multitude of you roaming the world right now, but only one having just sent Neil to his death. He guessed that, too.

“You know what it means, don’t you? I can’t stop you because you’re stubborn as ever, but– if you change your own past, you--”

 _Finally_ your smile reaches the many wrinkles under your eyes, and you let out a warm laugh: “Don’t get in if you can’t stop thinking in linear terms, right? I’ll be fine. Now, go.”

For you, it’s goodbye; you want to kiss him as you used to, but don’t. _He_ does, and it’s a small thing – a tentative speck on touch-starved lips – hanging faintly between you two before the moment passes altogether, as time never stops to wait for anyone.


	2. epilogue (there's a world where we die old)

There are plenty of wrinkles around your eyes now; around your mouth, too. It’s because you smiled a lot more _afterwards_ , and Neil – much older, beautiful as ever Neil – he won’t shut up about how much he adores that smile still.

“What’s with the heart eyes, sir,” he asks with deliberate fondness, if a little teasing. “You’ll excuse me, but I’m married.”

(Not the one for pretense nor world-saving business, the sincere one – larger than life – you often show to Kat and a now grown-up Max, and sometimes even Mahir and Wheeler. That one smile you always, _always_ offer to him.)

“Oh, I’m jealous now,” you answer, playing the part. “Who’s the lucky one?”

There’s a scar on his forehead matching with a missing one – in your heart, but not this you – and when you look at it, you remember the first time; you instantly knew what it meant, for Charon’s obols are not easily retrieved. Even though it faded out a bit with time, it’s still here, will always be, as a constant reminder of a sacrifice you made, and also didn’t make at all.

(No linear thinking allowed here, right?)

“Not your type I’m sure,” Neil continues, entangling his fingers with yours. “Charming, great beard, has the most impeccable taste in men.”  
“And _suits_.”

You and he laugh, and kiss, and laugh some more. You once wished to die old, and hopefully you will both, hands tracing lines and scars and wrinkles, an intricate design made of threads red as blood that was never spent, transcending space and time altogether.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Charon's obol : a coin placed in/on the mouth of a dead person before burial, allowing them safe travels to the Underworld.
> 
> i, um, didn't plan to write an epilogue, and _yet_. cheers to that, cheers to my upcoming exam, and cheers to _you_ my friends! hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
